Investigation
by Claire CM
Summary: John decides to investigate further in St Barts Sequel to Enlightenment [but can be read as a standalone :)]


Rating: K

Spoilers: Series 3 Finale "His Last Vow."

Summary: John decides to invesigate further in St Barts. Takes place sometime after 'The Sign of Three' and before 'His Last Vow.'

Disclaimer: All publicly recognisable characters and places are the property of Arthur Conan Doyle, Mark Gatiss, Stephen Moffatt and the BBC . This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes and no infringement on copyrights or trademarks was intended. Previously unrecognised characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

hr size=1 noshade

John watched as Sherlock stared into the microscope, his eye twitching in irritation. An irritation which he had so far ignored.

"Oh, Molly," John smiled at her, "could you hand me that pen please?"

He watched surreptitiously as the detective's muscle below his eye twitched again.

"Thanks," he winked at her after she handed it over with a smile on her pleasant face.

Molly turned back to filling out her paperwork; apparently working in her cramped office sometimes made her feel claustrophobic. Although, John couldn't help but notice, this tended to happen more often when Sherlock was making use of the hospital's lab.

"Eh, Molly?" John asked again, "would you mind please passing me over some of that paper there?"

Sherlock sighed and Molly looked at the Doctor quizzically. "There's some paper beside you there, John."

He glanced to his right and cleared his throat. "Right, right, it's just, uh, this is, this is plain paper," he explained holding it up to her, "and I was actually looking for some lined paper, like the one beside you. Messy writer."

Molly laughed lightly and placed the paper beside him. Sherlock twitched a little across the room.

"I was beginning to think you needed glasses," Molly teased.

"Rest assured, Molly, there is nothing wrong with John's eyesight." Sherlock interrupted. "I believe he is trying to aggravate me and using you as a proxy."

"Sorry, what?"

Sherlock pulled back from the microscope and regarded her carefully.

"Your ring."

Molly looked down at the engagement ring on her left hand and waited expectantly for further clarification which did not seem to be forthcoming.

"My ring?" she looked back at John who was looking bashful, "I don't understand. I know I don't wear it down in the Mortuary but that's because I don't want to risk dropping it in someone and sewing them up with my ring inside. But the lab...there's, there's no rule about not wearing rings," she frowned at Sherlock ready to fight him if he were in the mood to argue, "especially when it's just paperwork."

Sherlock stood up, walking towards her, "it's not the fact you are wearing a ring, it's what happens when you move your hand."

Molly stared immobile as Sherlock lifted her left hand, his thumb brushing across the solitaire and neat row of diamonds.

"See?" he moved her hand to the side and she watched as the light hit the ring, sending a quick, sharp blast of white light to shoot out.

"Oh," she breathed out, "John kept asking me for things because my ring was annoying you under the lights." She frowned at the Doctor who scratched the back of his neck.

"Got to get my amusement where I can find it," John replied.

"This is a nice ring," Sherlock declared, studying it. Molly's head turned in his direction so fast, she nearly had whiplash.

"Thank you," her voice sounded a little strangled to her own ears, and she cleared her throat self consciously, the heat from Sherlock's fingers focusing all her attention on the one spot his skin touched hers.

"It suits you," he murmured, "It's not too big to overwhelm your slight fingers and look gaudy, but elegant and prominent enough for your hand. He must have had help. Sister? No, he's an only child. _Clearly_. Your friend then, Meena is it?"

"Yes," Molly whispered, pulling her hand quickly back as if she'd been burned.

"Ah," he offered her a quick smile and spun on his heel, before pausing. "Do you know where they got the ring?"

"Er, yes, why?"

"Not sure diamonds would suit you mate," John eventually intervened.

"Funny, John. No, not for me, it's for...a case I'm currently working on."

"I didn't know you were working on a case," John said indignantly straightening up.

"That's because I didn't tell you, John."

"Sherlock," Molly ventured, "why do you need to go to a jewellers for a case?"

"If I told you Molly, I'd have to kill you," he smiled at her as he sat back down at the microscope. "Although," he frowned, "you might actually be the one to kill me."

"Been there, done that," Molly giggled, smiling in his direction.

"Indeed, and extremely successfully too," Sherlock returned her gaze, his mouth curling up in the corner warmly.

John watched the two of them with raised eyebrows. "Right," he cleared his throat drawing their attention to him.

"Are you feeling ill, John? You seem to have some sort of irritation in your oesophagus."

"No, no, I'm fine Sherlock. Just...observing." He glanced at Molly who began fiddling with the files in front of her and avoided his eye.

"I don't understand you, Sherlock," John sighed.

"Of course you don't," Sherlock replied staring back at the eyepiece.

"I should really go back to the office and put these away," murmured Molly as she gathered everything into her arms.

"Molly, you can tell me the name of that jeweller at dinner. You'll be joining us all of course at John's later."

"Well, actually, I-I was going to meet Tom later. We're going to set the date and maybe start a bit of the planning." She said hopefully, smiling tremulously at John.

"No, you're not."

"Sherlock," John warned him.

"Wh-what do you mean?" she shifted her feet, her spine straightening minutely.

"I'm sorry Molly," Sherlock smiled sympathetically over at her, "your phone was ringing earlier, Tom's ringtone, and a message was received immediately afterwards. I believe he has cancelled dinner tonight."

"Oh," Molly frowned down at the paperwork and fumbled with the mobile phone she'd just placed in her lab coat pocket. "Well, if he did, it's fine. We've plenty of time." The false brightness in her voice didn't fool either of the men and she quickly turned on her heel and rushed from the lab.

"Was that really necessary?" John frowned at him.

"Did you see her face?" Sherlock countered, ignoring John's question. "It's not the first time he's cancelled a date with her. I told you John, it won't last."

"At least try to hide the grin when you say that," John chastised him. "Git."


End file.
